


Klaine Advent 2017 (and 2018!)

by alexofthegarden



Series: You Are Mine [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: D/s, Klaine Advent Drabble Challenge 2017, Sub Blaine, You Are Mine 'verse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-09 14:25:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 18,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12889797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexofthegarden/pseuds/alexofthegarden
Summary: There are moments...Klaine Advent 2017/2018 in the You Are Mine 'verse.





	1. Attachment

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my first attempt at an Advent. I’m going to try to do it daily, but life is busy so no promises!
> 
> Taking a page from Lilinas, these will all take place in the world of You Are Mine at various points of Kurt and Blaine’s lives. I’ll try to tell you where they fit in for anyone interested in trying to reference it.

 

* * *

  **Attachment:**

 **A feeling that binds one to a person, thing, cause, ideal, or the like; devotion; regard; something that attaches; a fastening or tie.**  

* * *

_This moment would probably fall between Chapter 13 and 14 of You Are Mine._

 

 

Kurt was curled up on the bed in Blaine’s arms, resting on his boyfriend’s chest as it rose and fell.  He played with the soft wisps of hair that tickled at his cheek.  Blaine sighed with contentment and Kurt wondered, as he did more often now, if Blaine’s submission was flowing.  And he wondered, as he did slightly less often, what he would do with it if he were a Dominant.

“What’s it feel like?” he asked quietly, running his nails over Blaine’s skin.  “Latching,” he clarified.

Blaine turned his head to look over at him.  “What do you think it feels like?” he asked him.

“I don’t know.” Like everything having to do with Dominance, negative visions were the first to appear in his mind.  “Images of a leash or a tether come to mind.”

“It’s not like that,” Blaine said.  He shifted and leaned up on his elbow. Kurt mirrored him and listened.  “There’s no power specifically in the latch.  It’s more like…an attachment.  A joining of two people, when being one is at its loneliest.”

It would be hard to convince Kurt that there was anything having to do with Dominance and submission that didn’t also have to do with power.  “I don’t think I will ever understand you people.”

Blaine chuckled but he didn’t say a word as he got up and stood himself in the corner.

“Blaine, what are you-”

“I’m standing in the corner.  Pretend I’m falling.” He looked over his shoulder. “Show me what you think latching would be like.”

Kurt rolled his eyes, waiting until Blaine turned back to the wall then got out of bed.  But he had to stop for a second.  Seeing Blaine stand in the corner with nothing but his boxer briefs hugging his body, with his perfect posture and lowered head, and his frame both muscular and slight, he radiated strength and vulnerability at the same time.  It was becoming oddly arousing. Kurt’s instinct was to shake those feelings away, but like he had at school when he’d left Blaine wanting, he used them instead, closing the distance, grabbing Blaine’s hand like his Dominance would grab Blaine’s submission if he had any, and pulling him around until their chests touched.  Blaine was looking up at him, eyes wide, and Kurt placed one hand on Blaine’s lower back, pressing him in for a kiss. 

When they broke apart, Blaine swallowed and bit his lip, eyes still closed. He took a few shallow breaths.

“Are you okay?” Blaine didn’t answer and Kurt started to worry that he’d done something that Blaine either didn’t like or liked too much and he could only imagine what was going on inside the submissive’s head.  “What’s the matter, did I do it right or wrong?”

“Well,” he said, finally opening his eyes, dark with arousal. “That is not at all what it feels like when Dominance latches on to submission.  But you can do that to me again any time you want.” 

“Well, I would be more than happy too,” Kurt said with a satisfied smile, but that didn’t answer his question.  “But first, show me what it really feels like to latch.”

Kurt could see the obedience that instantly washed over Blaine’s features, as if the request alone required the respect that Dominance itself would demand. Wordlessly, Blaine took his hand. Watching him carefully, giving him a second to say no, he guided Kurt to turn in the corner and face the wall.  Protests and refusals flashed in his mind. Darkness filled his vision and the smell of brick filled his nostrils, and he had no idea how Blaine tolerated, even felt comfortable, in the humiliating position.  Then Blaine took his hands gently and crossed them in position at his lower back, and his heart skipped a beat.

“Blaine-”

“Safeword?” was the only thing Blaine asked.

Kurt closed his eyes.  He had asked for this, to understand what Blaine felt.  And though he felt stupid and embarrassed and wholly uncomfortable standing like a child, like a sub, in the corner, he didn’t feel fear. 

He shook his head.  “No,” Kurt answered.  He wouldn’t safeword. 

“Okay.” Blaine whispered.  And then there was silence.  

Kurt took a breath.  He tried to relax.  He tried to wait.

But he couldn’t.  There wasn’t a sound behind him and the quiet was growing ever more disconcerting.  He didn’t know where Blaine was.  Couldn’t see him or hear him.  Had he left him there alone or was he standing behind him, appraising him.  His cheeks pink with shame, his skin started to bristle with a hint of fear and a sudden loneliness that demanded Blaine’s touch washed over him.

“Blaine,” he called in almost a panic, but in that instant he felt the feather-soft touch of Blaine’s finger tips on the nape of his neck.  He shivered, his heart immediately beginning to race at just that tiny bit of contact.  Still ghosting over his skin, Blaine’s hands, inch by inch spread apart, tracing around to his chest, circling his hardening nipples, gliding down his sternum, to his waist.  Anticipation coursed through Kurt’s veins, and his breath hitched.  His mind narrowed to nothing but the ache in his body for everything that Blaine could give him.

He trembled as Blaine continued dragging his fingers up his sides then down again.  The flush in his cheeks spread, begging for more and Blaine gave it to him.  Fingers now touching his wrists, tracing up his arms, past his elbows and over his shoulders, down his forearm over his wrists once more and finally pressing the palms of their hands together. 

Kurt stood absolutely frozen, fearful Blaine would step away but feeling as safe as he knew he ever would.  Desperate for more, never wanting to let go, he laced their fingers together.  Blaine rested his head against Kurt’s back, squeezed their hands tight, and Kurt could do nothing more than sigh at the overwhelming sense of relief that rushed through him.

“That’s what it feels like,” Blaine whispered in his ear.

“That’s…”  Kurt couldn’t speak though.  He was breathless.

“You know what I’ve never experienced before though?”

Kurt couldn’t think or move but that was okay because Blaine circled him and reached up, brushing his fingers up the nape of Kurt’s neck and through his hair.  Then he leaned in.

Eyes closed, their lips met as gently as a breeze, filling Kurt’s heart with more love than he ever could have imagined.  And for the first time in his life, he wanted to be able to do that, to be able to give Blaine the feeling of safety and love and peace that Blaine had just given him.

The feeling that they were bound together; an attachment. And there was nothing on earth that could ever pull them apart.

 

 


	2. Bucket

 

* * *

 

**Bucket: A deep, cylindrical vessel, usually of metal, plastic, or wood, with a flat bottom and a semicircular bail**

 

* * *

 

_This moment takes place shortly after their wedding._

 

 

 

“Where do you think the term ‘ _Bucket List’_ came from?”

Blaine glanced lazily over the back of the couch where he was so peacefully lying with his feet up.  Kurt had been chopping and measuring and sautéing in the kitchen for the last hour, insisting that he wanted to make something special for Blaine’s birthday.  With one whiff of the garlic and onion that filled the air, any thought of protest flew out the window.  After all, it was his first birthday since they’d officially become husbands. And since Blaine had publically agreed to obey. So if Kurt insisted on cooking for him, Blaine really had no way to say no.

“Um, I think it comes from the phrase _‘Kick the Bucket’_ ,” Blaine responded.

“Which comes from where?”

It took only a second for Blaine to look it up on the internet.  “Well, there’s like three different explanations.  One is that it’s based on the beam that they used to hang slaughtered pigs on. It was called a bucket.”

“Gross. Next.”

 “Some think it’s from a Catholic holy water bucket they used to lay at people’s feet when they died.”

“Not gross, but ridiculous. Dead people don’t kick.  What’s the third one?”

Blaine glanced back down at his phone, then over at Kurt. He bit his lip.  “It doesn’t matter,” he said dismissively, sitting up to put the phone on the coffee table.  The third referred to the bucket someone stood on before being hanged.  Or hanging themselves. There was no way he was going to trigger those memories with Kurt.  Especially not on his birthday. 

Instead, he turned and folded his arms on the back of the couch, resting his chin atop them.  “Why are we talking about bucket lists anyway?”

Kurt eyed him quickly and Blaine knew he knew there was something he was hiding. But thankfully, Kurt didn’t press him.

“Well, it’s your birthday.  Which means you’re getting old,” Kurt teased, slipping their dinner into the oven. “I was wondering what was on your bucket list.”

“First of all, if I’m getting old then you’re getting older.  You should never forget that you will always be older than me,” Blaine grinned. 

Tossing his towel on the counter, Kurt walked over, resting his hands on either side of Blaine’s elbows. He towered Dominantly over his sub.  “And second of all?” he asked.

Blaine gazed up at him. His grin faded and his submission swirled.  Looking at Kurt that way, beneath him where he belonged, it was a reminder of his place, even when it was Kurt serving him. 

It always stole his breath away. 

So it took a moment for his Dom’s words to reach his ears and when they finally did, he swallowed, trying to find his voice again.  “And second of all…” He tried to calm the heart racing in his chest.  “I don’t have anything on my bucket list.”

In an instant, all of Kurt’s Dominance disappeared and he looked at Blaine like he was crazy.  “How is that possible?  My list is like, fifty items long.”

Of course it was.  Kurt’s ambition, his hopes and dreams, the things he kept striving for even when the world told him _no_ , those were some of Blaine’s favorite things about him.  But he was different.  He didn’t need any of that.  “I already have everything I need.”

Kurt scoffed.  “I should punish you for lying, because I know that’s not true.  Hell, you could probably make a list of fifty things right now that you wish that I would do.”

“But that’s just it,” Blaine said.  “No matter what else I want, it all boils down to you.  You are the very first and the very last thing on my bucket list.  Our very first kiss.  Dying holding your hand.”

“In this lifetime I want you to be mine,” Kurt whispered.  It was Nelly Furtado’s song, _Bucket List_.  Kurt had recognized it immediately.  “You are mine, Blaine.  And I am yours.”  Kurt came around the sofa and sat down, pulling Blaine towards him, threading his fingers though his curls as Blaine rested his head on Kurt’s shoulder.  “I love you so much.”

Blaine smiled softly.  “I love you too.  I always will.”

Kurt kissed his husband atop his head, and held him tight in his arms.  “Happy Birthday, Blaine.”

Closing his eyes, Blaine lost himself in the serenity of Kurt’s embrace.  There may have been things that he wanted. But no matter how much more he might want in this world, he knew that his bucket was already as full as it ever needed to be.

 

 


	3. Collapse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one gave me a hard time, but I’m really excited to write/post Day 4: Drink, so I had to get something down. I wanted to focus on Blaine’s collapse into subspace in the hospital with Serena, but I was having a really hard time trying to figure out what to expand on. So I went a little bit earlier instead.

* * *

  **Collapse: To fall or cave in; to break down; come to nothing; fail**

* * *

  _This moment takes place in the middle of Chapter 6, Already Home, Part 3, of Raising Serena._

 

“Call me in the morning,” Kurt said.

“I will.”

“I love you.”

But Blaine didn’t answer.  The computer just went dark.  Kurt’s stomach clenched and he raced to his bed, collapsing on it before he was sick.  His world started to spin, images of Serena and his mom mixing into one.  Needles and IVs and the incessant beeping of his mother’s hospital room filled his head.  And it had all started like this.  A fever that wouldn’t go away.

His hand shook as he dialed his father’s number and he steadied it beneath his ear and the pillow so he didn’t drop it.

“Hey Kurt, what’s up?” Burt asked.  “How’s Boston.”

“Serena’s sick,” Kurt said quickly.  He tried to keep himself together.  “She has a fever that won’t go away.”

The hitch in his voice was obvious and though his father couldn’t see the tears of panic, he could certainly hear them.

“Kids get sick, Kurt.”  He tried to be reassuring.  “They get fevers that don’t go away.  It’s normal.”’

“This isn’t normal.  _She_ isn’t normal Dad, with her anemia-”

“Her anemia is one thing Kurt, but it doesn’t lead to the things you’re thinking of.”

“How do we know?” He didn’t know how his father was managing to keep it together when the whole world was falling apart.  “How do we know that Mom wasn’t anemic and it led to-”

“Kurt, stop,” Burt ordered.  It was extremely rare that his father used his Dom voice on Kurt, but it still worked.  The world came back into focus and his panic started to subside.  His fear remained though.  “Your mother and Serena are two very different people.  Serena is a little girl and little girls get fevers all the time.  You have to give her body a chance to fight it off-”

“What if she can’t?”

“She will, Kurt, she will.  How’s Blaine?”

Blaine.  In his panic, Kurt had nearly forgotten about his phone call with Blaine.  “He’s scared.  Overwhelmed.  Mad at me that I’m not there.  He seems unwilling to accept help from his brother.”

“Being alone with a sick kid is a scary thing Kurt. Believe me, I know.  And yes, I know he’s not alone but Serena isn’t Cooper’s responsibility and Cooper isn’t you.  And I have no doubt Blaine’s submission is calling out for you.”

“Being here, Dad…” He looked around the room, at the clothes that hung in the closet.  It would only take him five minutes to pack and head back down to the city.  But he couldn’t leave his cast, his show.  Not now.  That was his baby too.  “I just feel so helpless.”

“All you can do Kurt is do the work you need to do where you are and try to get Blaine through this where he is.  Do whatever you can to keep him from getting so overwhelmed that he plummets into subspace but you also need to keep yourself safe.  The last thing that Serena needs is for both of you to collapse into a panic.”

“I know.” Of course he knew.  That didn’t make it any easier.  “I’ll try.  Thanks, Dad,” Kurt said. 

“I love you son.  You and Blaine and Serena…you’ll get through this, you’ll see.  She’ll be fine.”

Kurt hung up the phone, unsure if he believed his Dad or not.  He got ready for bed and turned out the light, crawling beneath the covers.  He felt utterly alone and his mind drifted to places he didn’t want to go.  He could barely breathe and as he was falling asleep he felt his whole body plummet beneath him.  Jolting awake he reached for the phone.  But it was too late to call anyone and he put it back down. 

He’d talk to Blaine in the morning.  He closed his eyes and finally fell asleep to the constant loop telling himself that the world would not collapse while he slept.  In the morning everything would be okay.  It had to be.


	4. Drink

* * *

 

**Drink: to take water or other liquid into the mouth and swallow it; imbibe**

* * *

 

_This takes place between Can You Be My Fantasy and Raising Serena_

 

The lights were blazing, the music was blaring, and Kurt hadn’t seen his husband drink, but he hadn’t needed to.  One look at him on the dance floor with Elliott was all the confession he needed.  Kurt took a breath.  Blaine was having fun and was sexy as hell and he tried to clamp down the jealousy that was fighting to rear its ugly head.

He and Elliott had a tentative truce; an acknowledgement that despite whatever feelings that Blaine and Elliott had for one another, and there were feelings, Blaine belonged to Kurt.  Kurt had made that clear.  Santana had made that clear.  And Elliott, Kurt had come to learn, was a Dom for whom honor mattered immensely.

That didn’t stop the fact that Blaine was forbidden from drinking alcohol when Elliott was around.

Kurt considered giving Blaine the night before dragging him out of the club.  But then Blaine tripped and fell into Elliott’s arms, laughing, and Kurt stormed over before his sub did something he’d regret in the morning.

Well, Blaine would still regret it in the morning.  It just wouldn’t be because of anything he’d done with Elliott.

“Okay, time to go,” Kurt said, taking Blaine’s hand and pulling him away from the other Dom.

“Kurt,” Blaine whined.  “We were just dancing.  You can dance with us too.  Or you could just dance with me,” he added with a suggestive grin.

“You had one rule tonight Blaine,” he yelled calmly over the music.  “Don’t drink.  And if I told you I was certain you’d disobeyed that rule, would I be right?”

“Yessir,” Blaine slurred with a pout.  Then his eyes lit up.  “Take me in the back.  Elliott can spank me while I-”

“Enough.”  Kurt’s tone was enough to snap the sub’s mouth shut.  He led Blaine across the dance floor and outside.

“Are you gonna call Santana to spank me?” Blaine asked, still hopeful.

“No one is spanking you, Blaine. What would that teach you? That you can break the rules and get everything you want?”

Blaine bumped their shoulders together and literally batted his eyes up at his Dom.  “Then how are you going to punish me?”

“That has yet to be decided,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes at Blaine’s drunken attempts to be cute.  “But keep this up and I promise you will like it less and less.”

Blaine pouted again, but the promise did get him to keep quiet until they got home.  When they did, Kurt guided Blaine to brush his teeth, take some ibuprofen, drink a glass of water, and go to bed.  “Goodnight, Blaine.  Please try not to puke in the morning.”

* * *

 

Blaine woke up with a groan and a pounding in his head.  He surveyed the rest of his body.  His stomach was queasy, but not too bad.  He knew a good breakfast was most likely his best cure.  Getting a whiff of eggs and bacon, he realized that a good Dom was an even better cure.

“Hey,” Kurt greeted him after he’d freshened up and dressed.  “You’re looking halfway decent this morning.  Hungry?”

“Yes, actually.”  He sat down and with the first bite he moaned.  “This is so good, Kurt.”

Kurt smiled.  “Don’t eat too much.  You may not feel sick now but push it too much…”

“I won’t,” he said with his mouth full.

“So what did you have planned for today?” Kurt asked after a few minutes.

Blaine quickly figured out what day it was and went through his schedule.  There was only one thing he had planned, and Kurt could take care of that right here.  “Nothing really.”

“Good,” Kurt said.  “I think after a night at Black and White, a day of relaxing in front of the television is what the doctor ordered.”

“Oh.” His forehead wrinkled in confusion and maybe disappointment.  “Well that sounds…good…I guess.”

Kurt smirked at him.  “You just said you don’t have other plans.”

“No, Sir, I didn’t.  I don’t.  I guess I just thought there would be…you know.”

“You did,” Kurt said, but it wasn’t really a question.  “Do you think you deserve…you know?”

Blaine lowered his head.  “Yes.”

“What for Blaine?” Kurt asked casually.  “Why do you deserve to be…you know.”

The sub only had so much patience for Kurt’s teasing.  “Come on, Kurt, just say punished.”

“You started it,” Kurt said.  Blaine sighed.  “So tell me what you deserve to be punished for.”

He felt the beating of his pulse pick up.  “For drinking.  Getting drunk.”  It had been a moment of impulse.  But he should have had better control.  “When I knew I shouldn’t.”

“Disobedience.”  All teasing was gone, suddenly Kurt was all business.  “That’s a lack of respect, Blaine.  And how do you show me respect?”

The tingle of anticipation and fear he always craved, started in Blaine’s stomach.  “By serving you.  Sir.”

“That’s right,” Kurt said.  “Now last night I had this plan to fuck your mouth and make you swallow my come all day.”

Blaine’s breathing grew quick, his submission flew, and his head started to spin.  He grasped his chair in his fists to prevent himself from falling off of it. 

“But then I realized that overtaxing your gag reflex and your stomach the morning after drinking might not be the best of ideas.”  Blaine’s grip on his chair loosened.  He hoped he wasn’t hearing what he thought he was hearing. “And I realized you probably wouldn’t be up for much today, given your hangover.  And I could actually really use a day off.”

Disappointment rushed through him. “Kurt-”

“So here’s what’s going to happen,” Kurt said, his eyes growing hard with warning at Blaine’s interruption. Blaine lowered his gaze in apology and Kurt continued. “You and I are going to get naked and binge watch our next Netflix obsession.  And you are going to remember what belongs in your mouth instead of alcohol. After all, naked all day, I need something to keep my cock warm.”

And the world dropped out from under Blaine once more.  “Fuck.”

“No Blaine,” Kurt corrected.  “There will be no fucking.  No coming.  Well, _I_ may come later tonight, we’ll see.  But you, not so much.”

* * *

 

He refused to tell Kurt that laying on the couch watching one of their favorite shows, suckling on Kurt’s dick while Kurt’s hands brushed softly through his curls was not really punishment. 

Kurt probably knew any way and that was why in addition to having his cock warmed by Blaine, the hand that was not playing with his hair was resting perfectly on Blaine’s ass.  That, more than anything, was what kept him hard. The fantasy of being spanked while he served his Dom.  They knew each other far too well not to know that was the true punishment, but Blaine had no intention of losing his hold on Kurt’s cock to question it. So only the occasional moan escaped his lips when Kurt would lift his hand for just a second before returning it with a gentle caress, and every time he would thank his Dom for the silent torture with a swirl of his tongue around Kurt’s head.

The hours ticked by and Kurt’s taste and smell were long gone, but the sensation in his mouth, the submission that poured off of him, the love that he felt with every second, that never changed.  The drink had been a mistake; disobeying his Dom, freeing his inhibitions with Elliott.  It hurt him, the disrespect he had shown his Dom.  He knew he wouldn’t have another one for a long time.

Half a season later, Kurt turned off the television and nudged Blaine up, keeping him steady with a strong hold on his hand. 

“You ready to put all that practice to good use?” Kurt asked.

Blaine didn’t need to answer.  Kurt led him to the bed and guided himself back between Blaine’s lips, over his tongue toward the back of his throat.  This time, Blaine knew Kurt would come, and he thought to himself that he was more than happy to have this one last drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved this one. I hope you do too.


	5. Example

* * *

**Example: one of a number of things taken to show character of the whole; an instance, especially of punishment, serving as a warning to others; a precedent**

* * *

  _This takes place between the last two chapters of Raising Serena (Chapters 9 and 10)_

 

 

Blaine looked behind his shoulder first.  Seeing and hearing nothing in their quiet apartment, he turned conspiratorially at the little girl perched carefully next to him on a chair so she could reach the kitchen counter too.  She was looking up at him with eyes wide.

“Now,” Blaine whispered.  “If you take just one of the cookies from the bottom,” he said, demonstrating as he spoke, “and rearrange the ones on top,” which he did with great vigilance, “Daddy will never know that we ate one before breakfast.”

“Unless Daddy is standing right behind you watching you break the rules.”

Blaine froze, cookie in hand. Serena looked up at him.  “You’re in trouble,” she said.

Serena didn’t need to be the astute three year old she was to know that.  Blaine scooped her in his arms, gave her the cookie, and carried her back into the living room.  She ran as soon as he put her down and Blaine leaned in to kiss Kurt quickly on the lips.

“If I’m in trouble then she’s in trouble, and I know you don’t want that.” The gold sparkled in Blaine’s eyes as he watched Kurt try to keep a firm face.  It wasn’t working.  “Besides,” he grinned, “it’s Monday.”

“I don’t know if _Monday_ is a get out of jail free card for being a horrible example to our daughter.  She’s a little girl willing to do anything her Papa tells her.  You are a grown adult with an extremely prudent sense of right and wrong, I might add.”

Blaine leaned over and whispered in Kurt’s ear.  “Then punish me.  Sir.”

Kurt rolled his eyes.  Any other day and Blaine knew his ass would be Kurt’s for that comment alone.  But Kurt had been pushing his Dominance hard lately and he needed the break.

“Just go make breakfast,” Kurt said, pushing him back toward the kitchen.  “Something healthy to counteract all that sugar you fill her with.”

“I’ll give you some sugar,” Blaine teased and he wrapped his husband up in his arms, kissing him again, more slowly this time.

“Blaine,” Kurt protested.

“What?” Blaine feigned innocence.  “This is being a good example of how to be a good spouse.”

“You know what else is a good example?” Kurt said.  “Making breakfast.”

“Fine,” he pouted.  “Come on Serena, you gonna help me?”

She squealed and ran over, pushing the chair to the kitchen island this time, waiting for Blaine to get out the ingredients.  He washed and dried the fresh berries then let her dump them into the blender while he added the yogurt and frozen bananas for the smoothie.  While she did that, he cut up the rest of the fruit, measured the other ingredients, and switched jobs.  With his finger on the pulse of the blender, he made sure Serena knew what to do next. In the bowl on the counter she poured all of the fruit and the cup of quinoa Blaine had left for her.  She drizzled in the honey, the lime, and the basil and mixed it all up.  Blaine helped her scoop it into three bowls and she helped him pour the smoothie into three glasses. 

Every once in a while, Blaine would glance up and catch Kurt watching them with a look of complete awe on his face.  He knew the feeling well.  The only thing better than loving Serena and Kurt, was being able to watch them together, loving one another. 

Blaine knew there were many in the world who believed that they shouldn’t be a family.  A sub shouldn’t be with a Gray and certainly shouldn’t be married to one while legally bound to another Dom.  Two men shouldn’t have been together at all, much less fathering a little girl brought into the world through surrogacy.

He helped Serena bring the meal to the table and serve her Daddy and Papa and then herself.  Then he sat down with the two people he loved most in the world.

There were others who looked down on them, would never accept them, but Blaine didn’t care.  He knew that there was no better example of what a family should be than the three of them.  And that was enough for him.

 


	6. Fraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blaine and I decided to write Kurt a song.

* * *

  **Fraction: a part as distinct from the whole of anything; portion or section a piece broken off**

* * *

  _This moment could have taken place almost anytime._

 

It had been a long day at rehearsal and Kurt knew Blaine had been home for hours.  He hoped dinner was on the table.  He hoped a steaming, hot bath had been drawn for him.  But when he walked through the door there was no scent of a delicious meal or bubbles from the bathroom.

What there was, was the sound of Blaine in the piano room – singing and playing.  Something Kurt had never heard before.

The piano stopped and Kurt knew he was scribbling on his notes the changes he’d just made.  He didn’t think Blaine knew he was there, so he tiptoed silently to the door to listen as Blaine started the song back up from the top.

_I am a fraction of myself without him._

_I am the moon without the sun_  
 _I am the starts that fall from the sky_  
 _I am the boy who knelt at your feet without ever understanding wh_ y

Kurt held his breath.  This wasn’t just any song.  This was a song about him.  About them.

_I am the man who needs his attention_   
_I am the sub who needs his space_   
_But without him I am lost in the world_   
_Outside of time and place_

_I am a fraction of myself without him._

Kurt stepped quietly into the doorway, resting his head against the frame.  Blaine’s eyes were closed, still seemingly oblivious to the Dom that watched him in awe.

_A body of cravings_   
_without the sting to soothe_   
_A mind in chaos_   
_without the bark to silence_   
_Left in light_   
_without the darkness where I can see_

_Submission, pride held tight inside  
Until all that is left is a fraction of me._

Blaine opened his eyes and looked over at him.  Kurt’s heart pounded in his chest as Blaine smiled, eyes full of love.

_The world sees his gray, I see a prism_   
_A rainbow of colors he pours into my heart_   
_Alone on solid ground I fall. With him on the edge, I’m safe, I stand tall._

Kurt could feel the tears of happiness and pride coming to his eyes and he wiped them away.

_I need his denial to know his approval_   
_I need his pain to know his peace_   
_I need his control to know how to be free_   
_Without his fight, no music flows from me_

_Submission, pride held tight inside  
All that’s left is a fraction of me_

_I am a fraction of myself without him._

Blaine lifted his fingers from the keys and shrugged.  “It’s a work in progress.”

“It’s beautiful,” Kurt said and he couldn’t go to his sub fast enough to pull him into his arms and kiss him until neither one of them could breath.  “You are incredible, Blaine Anderson.  Is that for Mercedes or a show?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe. Someday.  Right now it’s just for me.  For us.”

Never wanting to let this man go, Kurt rested his head on Blaine’s shoulder.  “Whether you share it with the world or not, I will hold it in my heart forever.”

Blaine didn’t respond.  He didn’t have to. They would hold every fraction of the other in their hearts.  Forever.

 


	7. Genuine

* * *

  **Genuine:  possessing the claimed or attributed character, quality, or origin; not counterfeit; authentic; free from pretense, affectation, or hypocrisy; sincere**

* * *

  _I’m not certain if this moment takes place after Blaine and Cooper’s conversation at lunch in Chapter 16 of You Are Mine, or if it’s kind of an alternate version.  But this is what came to mind._

 

“Tell me why I should trust him with you.”

Blaine looked up at his brother.  He’d thought the conversation was over.  Cooper had already confirmed that his parents would disown him for loving Kurt.  Cooper had yet to really say where he stood on the issue, other than implying he would let things run their course and not be put in the middle.  Blaine had almost resigned himself to a loneliness that came from losing the family that raised you. 

But then Cooper said, “Tell me why I should trust him with you.”

And the fact was, the answer wasn’t going to be any easier for Cooper to hear than it was for Blaine to say and when he looked across the restaurant table at his big brother, there was sadness glistening in his hazel eyes. 

“You probably shouldn’t,” Blaine said.  It was the truth, a truth from which he and Kurt both refused to hide.  “The fact is, Kurt is going to hurt me, and I am going to hurt him. We are going to make a mess of things while we figure this out.  There will be times when he hates my submission and there will be times when I’ll hate that he’s Gray.”

“Then why go through with this, Blaine?” Cooper leaned forward, wanting to understand.  “I know you say you love him but-”

“I do love him, Coop.”

The Dom looked at him for a long time.  And then he asked one simple question.  “Why?”

The answer though was just as simple, at least for Blaine.  “Because he’s genuine.  The most genuine person I’ve ever met.  There is no pretense with him, nothing wrapped up in the shoulds and shouldn’ts, of Dominance and submission.  I don’t have to guess with him like I do with other Doms.  I don’t have to wonder if the order is because they mean it or because it’s a power play-”

“It shouldn’t matter the reason, Blaine.  You’re a sub, a Dom gives you an order, you obey.”

“And I do.  It’s just, with Kurt, I don’t have to wonder why.”

Cooper shook his head and let it fall into his hands.  “You know it’s that wondering that always got you into trouble with Dad.”

“I know.”  He used to challenge like crazy.  It used to land him in his father’s office more often than he could count.

Cooper sighed.  “This is what you want then?  What you truly want?”

Blaine bit his lip.  If he was going to laud Kurt’s genuineness, than he had to be genuine himself.  Kurt would want it that way.  “No.  Of course this isn’t what I truly want.  Of course I wish he were a Dom.  But he is _who_ I want more than anything.  And if that means learning how to be with a Gray, than that’s what I have to do.”

There was silence on the other side of the table and Blaine thought that they were back exactly where they had started.  But then Cooper reached over and took his hand.  There were tears in his eyes when they met.  “I’m scared for you, little brother.”

Blaine tried to smile.  “Yeah.  I’m pretty scared for me too.  But I trust him.  I have to trust him.”

It wasn’t something Cooper would ever understand.  But it could be something he’d learn to accept.  “If he loves you, Blaine, genuinely loves you and wants to take care of you, then I will do my best to trust him too.”

Blaine’s heart filled with hope.  Because Cooper would see that there was no one more genuine than Kurt.


	8. Health

 

* * *

  **Health: the general condition of the body or mind with reference to soundness and vigor; freedom from disease of ailment**

* * *

 

_This moment takes place during Raising Serena, around September 2022 between Chapters 7 and 8._

_For anyone unfamiliar, their daughter Serena was sick while Kurt was doing a show in Boston and Blaine was staying home with her in New York.  Kurt has been back about a month._

 

Anderson Studios.  Kurt swung open the door to his husband’s other pride and joy, vowing, as he passed through the front hallway, to change the artwork on the walls.  The pieces had been beautiful when he’d first picked them out, but it had been a couple of years.  They were growing old and stale.  It was time to freshen up.

Blaine smiled at him with a finger to his lips when Kurt walked through the studio door.  A client was recording.  Blaine had his headphones on and his fingers sliding over buttons that Kurt would never understand. He grabbed a water from the mini-fridge and sat down on the couch to wait.  And to watch.

Kurt had a secret he kept, tucked away just for himself.  He loved watching Blaine work.  He loved watching him turn the microphone on, giving orders to the singers and musicians on the other side of the sound proof glass, speaking with authority and confidence.  He was different at work than he would ever be with Kurt, and that was okay.  Kurt just stole these moments for himself whenever he could.

Blaine finished with his client, shook the artist’s hand, and led him out the door.  When he returned, Kurt’s sweet, submissive, Blaine was back and Kurt marveled, as he did so many times a day, how much he loved that Blaine too.  “Hello, sweetheart.”

“Sir.”  Blaine walked over and quickly kissed Kurt’s lips, before flopping down on the couch beside him with a sigh. 

“Long day?” Kurt asked.

“Long, but good,” he said.  “I’m glad you could come over early.”

“Well, when one gets a text that says _I think we need to talk about something_ , one generally does not sit around waiting for the shoe to drop.”

“There’s no shoe dropping, Kurt,” Blaine tried to assure him.  “I just wanted to talk about Serena.”

He hoped their little girl hadn’t done anything, but she had a lot of her father in her, so Kurt settled in and crossed his legs.  “Okay.”

“I want to talk about Serena’s health.”

“Nope.” Kurt started up, trying for his escape, but Blaine grabbed his wrist and Kurt knew there would be no getting out of this. “Fine,” he said, sitting back down.  But it wasn’t really fine at all.  He took a sip of his water, screwed the top back on, and placed it on the coffee table.  “Talk.”

Blaine took a deep breath, taking Kurt’s hand, leaning forward with that look that said Kurt was about to be told things he didn’t want to hear.  Things Blaine didn’t necessarily want to say, but knew he needed to.  “When you were away and Serena got sick-”

“Blaine, don’t-”

“I wasn’t there for you like I should have been.”

“Blaine, we’ve been over this.”

“But I’m here for you now.”

“I appreciate that, sweetheart, I do, but I don’t need-”

“Serena is not your mother.”

Kurt froze.  The hand resting in Blaine’s started to tremble and Kurt pulled it away, holding it in his own lap.  He felt the rise of the emptiness in the pit of his stomach that he knew too well.  “I know that,” he snapped.

“Then why do you go in to make sure she’s breathing every night.”

The image of himself flashed in his mind, sitting next to her, hand on her chest to make sure it rose and fell.  “Blaine, I’ve always done that.” His husband was overreacting.  He had to be.  “Every parent does it.”

“Not like this Kurt, and you know it.”

Kurt was silent.  His eyes dropped to the fingers twirling his wedding ring around and around.  He had nothing else to say.  There was nothing more he could say.  Blaine was right.

“I fucked up, Kurt,” Blaine said and Kurt looked up quickly to see his eyes, tight with worry.    “When everything happened, I was so caught up in my own fear and anger that I couldn’t see yours.  And then in the last month we’ve been so swept up in the aftermath of it all, but…I watched you last night. You had your hand on her chest.  Then you checked her fingers, her toes.”

Kurt’s gaze drifted, his thoughts turning back to the night before.  It shouldn’t have been such a big deal.  His mind told him it was such a small, stupid thing to panic about.  But he hadn’t been able to stop himself.  “She coughed at dinner.” 

“There’s a cold going around the daycare.” Blaine moved closer, their knees touching, and he took his hand once more.    “Kurt, I’m here.  Talk to me.”

Blaine’s voice seemed to ring in his ear, calling to him.  And Kurt allowed his thoughts to drift to what seemed like both a lifetime ago and yesterday.  “I was in school.  When my mom got sick.  I wasn’t there.  I didn’t know.” He tried to quell the storm he felt rising in his chest, but it wouldn’t ease.  “If I had been there, when it first started, maybe she would have been okay.”  He didn’t want to cry but the tears fell anyway.  “I wasn’t there for my Dad when he had his heart attack, I wasn’t there for Finn when he was shot, I wasn’t there for Dave when he…”  His voice trailed off.  If Blaine was surprised he’d included Dave in the list, he made no indication.  He just sat waiting, listening.  “You were so angry at me for not being here. I was angry at myself too.”  He wiped his cheek on his shoulder and Blaine squeezed his hands tightly between his own.  “I know she’s not my mom, Blaine.  I know this is different.  But the people around me…there’s a part of me-”

“I know.”

“I just wanted to curl up with you.  Have you hold me. Tell me it was going to be okay.”

“I know.”

“I just wanted you to be strong for me.  Is that too much to ask?” He looked at Blaine.  His husband.  His submissive.  And he honestly didn’t know the answer.

But Blaine did.  “No.” He took Kurt into his arms and held him tight.  “It is not too much to ask at all.  I can’t promise I’ll always be able to be.  But it’s never too much to ask me to try.”

Kurt closed his eyes.  There were times he let his mind drift to terrible _what ifs_.  But he didn’t let himself now.  Instead, he let the warmth and strength of Blaine’s submission surround him, hold him close, keep him safe.  Blaine pressed his lips to Kurt’s temple.

“In sickness and in health,” Blaine whispered.  “I promised that.  And I’m coming to realize, it doesn’t mean just you and me.  It’s our family, our friends.   It’s our daughter.  We are going to walk through this life together, Kurt.  And things happen, but you don’t have to deal with your fears alone any more.  I won’t mess up like that again, I promise.”

Kurt chuckled wetly in his arms.  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Blaine.”

“I can keep that one, Kurt.  I will keep that one.”

There was so much hope in Blaine’s voice, he let it go.  Instead, he clung to that hope.  “In sickness and in health.  I promise too.”


	9. Inch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I hope to catch up this weekend!

* * *

**Inch: a unit of length; a very small amount of anything; to move by inches or degrees**

* * *

_This moment takes place Blaine’s junior year at NYADA_  

 

It started small.  First it was the theater history class he’d let Blaine skip to finish his music composition assignment.  Then it was the paper he’d allowed Blaine to hand in late because it was tech week and sometimes the show had to come first.  But then he failed his anatomy test because he’d forgotten to study during a masterclass weekend and now Kurt was staring at Blaine’s transcripts for first semester and his academic grades were far from what was expected from him. 

He put the paper down on the kitchen table and a part of him knew that a spanking from Santana while being forced to stare at it was probably what Blaine thought he deserved.  And maybe it was.  But the grades weren’t exactly what Kurt thought Blaine needed to be punished for.  And he knew for sure that Santana wasn’t the one who needed to do it. 

 _Give him an inch, he’ll take a mile._   Everyone told him; Santana, Cooper, Rachel, even his own father.  Everyone had warned him, but of course, he hadn’t listened.  He’d given his boyfriend the benefit of the doubt.  He’d given his sub the respect and trust that he expected in return.  That he’d expected Blaine to give all of them in return.

He was far more angry that Blaine had proven them right, than about the grades themselves.  And he was angry at himself for not listening.

He looked at his sub standing in the corner and images of a dunce cap flickered in Kurt’s mind.  He shook them away, despite the thrill it sent through his body, and drew closer, folding his arms across his chest.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

Blaine obeyed, slowly facing his Dom.  His eyes were trained on the floor at his feet.  At least he had the decency to feel guilty. 

“Well?  What do you have to say for yourself?”

Blaine’s voice was small.  “I’m sorry, Sir.  I should have done better.”

“Yes.  You should have.”  Kurt took a step toward him and he could see Blaine trying to both look at him through his lashes and keep his head down where it belonged.  “I trusted you.  But more than that, Blaine, Cooper trusted you.  He didn’t have to pay your tuition and if he were standing here he certainly would not let you get away with this?  Would he?”

“No, Sir.”

“Cooper is spending a ton of money to put you through school.  He expects you not to waste it. I expect you not to waste it.”

“I know, Kurt, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to.  I’ll apologize to him, I promise.  The work just got away from me.”

“Because I let it.  Because I let you think that it was okay to let things slide, to not do the work you needed to.  Because I didn’t listen to everyone who told me that if I gave you an inch, you’d take a mile.”

“Sir-”

“Well, we’re both going to learn our lesson together this time.”

Now Blaine couldn’t help but fully meet Kurt’s eyes.  “What do you mean?”

“Please go to the table and tell me what your lowest grade was.”

Blaine moved hesitantly, as if he knew this was a trap.  He took one look at his transcript.  And gripped the table.  “69. Oh god.”

Kurt was prepared and caught him before he fell too hard into subspace. He shivered at the cold of Blaine’s submission that suddenly swept through his body.

“Naked.  In the bedroom.  You can wait for me on the bed.”  His sub seemed frozen in space though.  “Now, Blaine.”

As if hearing the command for the first time, Blaine rushed into the bedroom.  Kurt gave them both a minute; for Blaine to undress and for him to figure out how best to make this punishment and not pleasure for his sub.  When he thought both of them were ready, he followed Blaine into the bedroom.  The sub was kneeling on the bed, nervous and eager, eyes clouded over.  Kurt turned around as he peeled off his clothes, hiding his own nerves while he gathered his resolve. 

“Okay,” he said turning back.  Blaine’s gaze was firmly on the bed.  “Here’s how this is going to work.  I am going to lie down and enjoy myself.  Since you didn’t want to do the work before, you will do all of it now.  And for the last time Blaine, I will give you an inch.  And you will take a mile.  Understood?”

Blaine raised his eyes and shook his head. 

But Kurt wasn’t worried.  “You will,” he said, laying himself down in the middle of the bed.  “Let’s go, sweetheart.”

Unceremonious and awkward, Blaine crawled over to his Dom and, facing away, straddled his chest on his hands and knees.  Kurt immediately took just the head of Blaine’s cock in his fingers, stroking it gently, and he could hear the gasp that escaped his sub’s lungs at the touch.  “I expect you to take me all the way, Blaine.  I want to be able to feel the back of your throat.  But you will not be given the pleasure of more than an inch.  I expect you to keep your hips up and make sure you don’t push in any further.  I will not help you.  And you will not come.  Now do you understand?”

Blaine’s voice was shaky already when he answered, “Yes, Sir.”

Kurt gave Blaine one last stroke, before resting his hands by side.  Blaine was to figure this out on his own and he watched the sub reach between his legs, trying to guide his cock to Kurt’s mouth.  When Kurt could taste the saltiness on his lips, he closed his eyes and opened, tickling slightly around the slit with the tip of his tongue before closing his lips just around the head. 

Blaine rounded his back, letting out a groan at the pleasure that rushed through his body.  But then he remembered his task and he leaned down on his elbows.  Hot breath ghosted over Kurt’s cock and then Blaine licked a tantalizing line from base to tip and back again.  Kurt was sure the intake of his own breath around Blaine’s dick sent a pulse through the sub’s body, because instantly, Kurt felt the world fall from beneath him as Blaine took him, flattening his tongue, hollowing out his cheeks, enveloping him.  And then Kurt was floating in the softness and warmth of Blaine’s mouth, and the tiniest intoxication of power rushed through his veins.  

He wanted to thrust deeper, to fuck him relentlessly, to feel himself chafe against the back of Blaine’s throat.  And more, he wanted to grab Blaine’s ass, pull him down, lavish his boyfriend’s cock with attention.  He wanted to give Blaine more.  He wanted to give Blaine everything. 

Sometimes Kurt liked to brag that he could play Blaine like a fiddle, but the truth was that his sub was the virtuoso.  He knew when to tickle at his Dom’s frenulum, making his head spin with want until he could barely obey his own commands. He knew when to suck with a gentleness that would draw Kurt’s pleasure from him like waves lapping at the sand until stopping, for just a moment, just long enough to ebb the flow.  And then he would swallow around him, squeezing so tight that he’d almost convince Kurt to let him off easy.

But he couldn’t.  He couldn’t ask Blaine for restraint if he wasn’t willing to use his own. 

He never stopped the endless teasing as his tongue swirled around the tip of Blaine’s cock, drinking him in only slightly before letting go again.  He could feel Blaine trembling above him with the effort to keep his hips up, to keep his cock where Kurt ordered it.  His muscles must have been aching, begging for a reprieve.  But Kurt refused to help.  If Kurt was going to give Blaine an inch he needed to learn not to take advantage, not to press for more.  And Kurt had to learn that the desire to make Blaine happy couldn’t overrule the necessary limits he had to enforce. 

But it was also important that they both knew where their limits ended and when Blaine swallowed him deep then stuck out his tongue and licked at his balls, Kurt couldn’t hold back any more.  He pulled off of Blaine and gritted his teeth, his back arching. 

“Fuck, Blaine,” he growled, thrusting just once before surrendering the punishment to the pleasure, coming down his sub’s throat, letting Blaine pull his orgasm from him inch by inch, until there was nothing left.

Glistening with sweat, Blaine collapsed onto the bed and Kurt curled onto his side, lapping softly at Blaine’s still hard cock. 

“Sir, please,” Blaine whined.

“I wish I could, sweetheart,” Kurt answered honestly.  “But we both need to learn that sometimes the answer has to be no.”

Blaine accepted it without complaint and they both lay in the silence for a bit.  Then Blaine nuzzled in closer.

“I’ll do better next semester.”

“I know you will.  And when you bring me those grades, we can do this again, and I will make sure that time that you are rewarded for your effort.”

“Mmm,” Blaine muttered, subspace and sleepiness overtaking him.  “You make me want to start my homework right now.”

Kurt wanted to tell him not right now.  Kurt wanted to ask for cuddles and kisses.  But Kurt had learned his lesson too.  “Then you’d better get started on it,” he said instead.

With a mix of a smile and a moan, Blaine slowly rolled himself out of bed.  “Yes, Sir.  Thank you, Sir.”

This time warm submission surrounded him and Kurt caught it with all of his love.  “You’re very welcome, sweetheart,” he said.  “Anytime.”

 

 

 


	10. Judgment

* * *

  **Judgment: An act or instance of judging; the forming of an opinion or conclusion; a judicial decision given by a judge or a court; a misfortune regarded as inflicted by divine sentence, as for sin**

* * *

  _This moment takes place during You Are Mine, before Blaine moves in with Kurt._

It was a chilly winter day, snow was falling outside, and the four of them were sprawled in the apartment Blaine shared with the girls.  Well, Santana, Kurt, and Blaine were studying, Brittany was behind the couch practicing her ballet.

“Who wants more coffee?” Blaine asked, bringing his mug to the kitchen. 

Everyone raised their hand and the drip of the Keurig was like the song of the seventh inning stretch.  Kurt yawned and got up to try and wake himself up.  He walked over to the kitchen table where Santana sat with her pre-law books and glanced over her shoulder.  The words made him roll his eyes.

“Santana Lopez, I do not know how you study this crap. A whole semester on the history of marriage and claiming?”

“Just wait until I go to law school, I’ll be steeped in it.”

He took the book from beneath her and she turned and stared up at him annoyed, but Kurt paid no attention.

“In 1967,” he read, “it was the judgment of the courts that people deemed to be 'Gray', or absent of any Dominant or submissive traits, were allowed to enter into a marriage with no restrictions.  The unanimous court held that _marriage is one of the basic civil rights of man, fundamental to our very existence and survival…To deny this fundamental freedom on so unsupportable a basis as the power classifications embodied in these statutes, classifications so directly subversive of the principle of equality at the heart of the fourteenth Amendment, is surely to deprive all of the State’s citizens of liberty without due process of law.  Under our constitution, the freedom to marry, or not marry, a person of another power designation resides with the individual and cannot be infringed by the State.”_

Blaine came up behind Kurt, rested his chin on his boyfriend’s shoulder, and presented his steaming hot coffee to him.  “Doesn’t sound like crap to me,” he said.

“You spill that coffee on my textbook and I promise you’ll be paying for it,” Santana snapped.  “And I don’t mean with money.”

Blaine chuckled as Kurt took the mug and handed the textbook back to the Dom.  “It is crap.  It never should have had to be decided by the Supreme Court and it definitely should not have taken until 1967.”

“Dom and subs were technically equal by then,” Blaine said.  He grabbed his own coffee and Santana’s from the kitchen counter, and placed his Dom’s down in front of her.  “But you know Grays weren’t.”

“Aren’t,” Kurt corrected.  “Grays aren’t equal.”

“But at least there’s nothing stopping us from marrying,” Blaine said.  But then he stopped, his cheeks blushing.  He looked up slowly at Kurt.  “I mean you marrying.  A sub.  Or a Dom.  If you wanted to,” he stuttered.  “Right Santana?”

His Dom was laughing at him, but she pulled it together enough to nod.  “Right.  Marriage is separate from claiming status.”

“Well, I personally don’t care,” Kurt said, reaching out to grab hold of Blaine’s hand.  “No one is going to tell me what I can or can’t do.  What’s best for me…for us,” he said, looking at his boyfriend.  “My judgement is the only one that matters.”

Blaine lowered his head, trying to hide his smile.  Kurt could feel the shiver rush down the sub’s spine to his finger tips and Kurt realized what he’d said.  He hadn’t really meant it the way Blaine had taken it. 

But he knew how much it meant to Blaine whenever Kurt would make decisions for the both of them. 

So then again, maybe he had meant it that way.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit where credit is due: The court ruling was taken from the 1967 U.S Supreme Court case, Loving v. Virginia, which ended all race-based legal restrictions on marriage in the United States.


	11. Key

* * *

**Key: A small metal instrument specially designed to fit into a lock and move its bolt**

* * *

_I’m not certain, but I think this moment takes place not too long after their wedding._

 

 

Blaine was dusting.  That’s all.  Doing the chores he was expected to do when he lifted the box on Kurt’s dresser just to wipe beneath it.  He hadn’t been snooping.  The key was right there.

He lost his breath.

“Kurt?” His voice was strangled and there was anger in it, anger fueled from fear that had come out of nowhere and was an overreaction, he was sure of it, but he couldn’t stop the burning in his body.

Kurt came to the door with an innocence that annoyed him.  It shouldn’t have, but it did and he held up the small key between his trembling thumb and forefinger.  “Kurt, what’s this?”

Kurt’s eyes widened, playing dumb when he was nothing of the sort and Blaine wondered if this is what he looked like whenever he was caught.  “It’s a key.”

“I know it’s a key, Kurt.  What is it a key to?”

Now it was guilt that washed over his face.  “It’s nothing, Blaine.”

“It’s not nothing Kurt!” He was trying hard to keep his temper under control so he didn’t end up the one in trouble.  But with his heart racing and his submission swirling in his head, he was finding it difficult.  “I grew up in this world, you didn’t, now tell me what this is.”

“Well if you know so much, why don’t you tell me!”

That wasn’t how it worked when Blaine was in trouble, Kurt forced a confession out of him.  Blaine wasn’t going to let his Dom get away with anything less.  “I’m waiting, Kurt.” He knew he was pushing it, but Kurt was pushing it just by the presence of the key in his hand.

“Fine,” Kurt snapped.  “It’s the key to a cock cage.”

His felt like the floor dropped out from beneath him.  He had known.  His body had known.  And yet a part of him had hoped he was wrong.

“Why is there a cock cage in our apartment, Kurt?”

Blaine could see Kurt’s patience with his behavior on his last legs.  “Because I wanted one?  Nothing says I can’t buy one.”

“It’s a hard limit, Kurt.  Bondage is a hard limit.  You don’t see me hiding whips and paddles underneath my clothing in the closet, do you?”

“Blaine.”  Kurt’s voice was tightening, his eyes narrowing.  “I am still your-”

“No.”  This wasn’t negotiable, not in his mind.  “You don’t get to have a different set of rules when it comes to hard limits.  I may ask sometimes, but I respect yours enough not to have paraphernalia in the house.”

Kurt turned away, hands on his hips, and Blaine could see his husband trying to sort through the clash of emotions flowing through him.  Blaine used the moment to try and calm his own battle, but there was so much he was feeling that he didn’t understand where any of it was coming from.

Finally, Kurt turned back.  “You’re right.  I’m sorry.  I’ll get rid of it.” He held out his hand.  “Give me the key.”

Blaine’s eyes dropped to look at it.  Such a tiny thing.  With so much power.  He closed his fist around it.  “No.”

“What, why?”

Why?  Blaine couldn’t answer.  Somewhere deep inside him where there was pulsing a burning cold, he understood that in his hand he held the key to his submission.  What he didn’t understand was why he couldn’t hand it over to Kurt. He should have wanted to.  He should have begged for it.  But he couldn’t even hold his hand out.

They stared at one another, both trying to read what was going on inside the other, both hiding their feelings deep inside.  It was Kurt who finally gave in.  “Fine.”

With the key in his hand, Blaine brought it to their closet, putting it inside a keepsake box that sat on his shelf.  He took a moment to calm his breathing, to let his heartbeat slow, and let the fire inside him subside.  But when he came back out, Kurt’s arms were folded across his chest and his eyes were hard.  Blaine’s submission stirred once again.

“Take your clothes off,” his Dom ordered.

“Kurt-”

Kurt raised a brow.  “Do you really think that right now is a good time to be disobedient?”

All the bravado Blaine had felt just moments ago drained away and with it, the rush of his submission finally escaped.  “No, Sir,” he said.

“Then do as I say.”

Blaine followed orders and in seconds he stood before his Dom, naked.

“Lie down on the bed.”

Doing as he was told, he settled onto his back on the bed, gripping the comforter in his hands, having no idea what was coming next.

Then Kurt reached down and circled his fingers around his sub’s cock.  He felt the surge immediately.

“Don’t get hard,” Kurt ordered.

Blaine nearly choked.  The order had come while Kurt stroked his cock and he had no idea how he was supposed to obey when his body was acting all on its own.

“I said, don’t get hard.”

Blaine knew how to deny his orgasms, he knew how to keep his hands and feet from moving, he knew how to make himself come when Kurt forced him.  He didn’t know how to stop his erection from forming at all.

“Try Blaine.  If you can keep from getting hard for just five minutes, I will reward you.”

For five minutes, Blaine tried to think of whatever he could to keep Kurt’s hand from driving all the blood in his body to beg for more.  He closed his eyes, and bit his lip and he thought that, all things considered, he was doing a good job.  But gasping for air at the end of those minutes, he had no way to dispute that he hadn’t been able to keep his erection in check.

Kurt stopped and brushed his fingers gently through Blaine’s wet curls. But Blaine focused inward, trying to regulate his breathing instead of opening his eyes to see in his Dom’s eyes the disappointment he must have caused.  But his guilt and shame of not being able to do what he’d been ordered became too overwhelming and his lids fluttered open.  Kurt was watching him.  There was sympathy mixed with frustration, but there was no disappointment.

He whispered his apology anyway. “I’m sorry.” 

“You can’t do it, Blaine.  You can stop an orgasm, but you cannot keep yourself from getting hard in the first place.  But the cage can, sweetheart.  I won’t ask you to use it.  But if ever you’re ready for it, I hope you’ll ask me.”

Kurt kissed him softly on his forehead then walked out of the room, leaving Blaine, heart still pounding in his chest.  Kurt was right.  He couldn’t do it on his own.  If he ever wanted to, he would need the cage.  He would need to hand the key to his submission over to Kurt. 

He hoped that someday, he would want to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interestingly, in the epilogue it says that Kurt has held the cock ring he used on Blaine for ten years. Which would mean he probably had it before he even met Blaine. And it says that Kurt had asked him before to use it and Blaine had refused. So had Blaine known that Kurt actually had one in their apartment, or did he always think the question was an abstract one. His reaction to the ring is very similar to his reaction to the cage here. Do I contradict myself? 
> 
> And where do you think the cage is now? ;)


	12. Limited

* * *

**Limited: Confined within limits; lacking originality or scope; narrow**

* * *

_This moment takes place between Chapters 12 and 13 of You Are Mine_  
_Kurt has left Blaine with Santana to be punished for skipping class, Brittany has walked him home,_  
_and now he is alone in the loft, with too much time to think._

 

 

 

 

_“I’m limited, just look at me.  I’m limited.  And just look at you, you can do all I couldn’t do…”_

Blaine tiptoed into the room when he heard Kurt singing.  He waited for him to continue, but he didn’t.  His voice trailed off.  He didn’t know what he’d expected when he pushed aside the curtain of Kurt’s bedroom, but it nearly broke his heart to see his boyfriend staring out the window, light reflecting off the raindrops highlighting the sadness on his face.

Sadness he had caused.

“Hey,” Blaine said quietly. 

Kurt quickly swiped at the corner of his eyes and turned, so lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t heard anyone come in.  “Blaine…”

Sometimes Blaine forgot how hard all of this must be on Kurt too. 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, fine,” Kurt said, trying to act like it was true. 

But Blaine knew better.  “I know you said to call but, I thought it might be better if you could see that I was okay.”

“Are you? Okay?”

Blaine shrugged.  “I’m a little sore.”  That wasn’t true either.  The fact was, his backside still burned from the paddling his Dom had just given him.  “But yes, I’m okay.”

“I’m surprised Santana let you out.”

“She knew I needed to come see you.”

Kurt looked around the room awkwardly.  “I’d ask you to have a seat, but…”

“Yeah,” Blaine chuckled to hide his embarrassment and he shoved his hands in his pocket.  He hated that there was ever tension between them, but even more so when it was because of his own submission. “Look, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be.  Sometimes I just feel so-”

“Limited?” Blaine finished for him.  Kurt leaned back against the wall, eyes turning back to the window.  “No one can be everything to someone.  So she’s my Dom.  And you’re my boyfriend.”

Kurt shook his head.  “You say that now because you can still feel the sting of her punishment.  Your submission is settled.  Your penance paid.  But I just…I don’t know how to do this.”

Blaine took a step toward him.  “Neither of us do, Kurt, but-”

“No, Blaine,” Kurt snapped, stopping him.  “I don’t know how to do _this_. My father told me that when I was a little kid he once spanked my mom in front of me and I climbed over her to protect her.  I didn’t want him to ever hurt her.  It’s all I want to do with you now.  Protect you.  Tell Santana that she can’t hurt you.”  Kurt squeezed his eyes shut and Blaine’s heart broke.  “And I know, I know it’s what you need, or at least what you think you need, but walking away, knowing what I was leaving you subject to…”

“Kurt, listen to me, please.”  Blaine waited until Kurt could tuck away his pain and look him in the eye again.  Then he closed the distance between them.  He took Kurt’s hands in his, squeezing them tight between them.  “I deserved it.  I consented to it.  It hurts, yes, but it also eases the pain and I know you don’t understand that and yes, I wish you did, but it’s okay that you don’t because I love you and I have faith that one day you will.”

“How? How can you have so much faith in me?”

“Because I tried not to love you and I couldn’t.  Which tells me that whatever else is between us that might be limited, our love isn’t.  And I think…I think that makes us stronger.”

“Blaine-”

_“I’ve heard it said…”_  

With a wistful smile and tears gleaming in his eyes, Blaine sang with every piece of his heart behind every word. 

_“_ _T_ _hat people come into our lives for a reason, bring something we must learn and we are led….”_

He reached up, delicate fingers, brushing gently along Kurt’s temple, losing himself in the blue of Kurt’s eyes. 

_“_ _To those who help us most to grow, if we let them…”_

Blaine turned Kurt in his arms, pulling him back against his chest, resting his chin on his boyfriend’s shoulder. 

_“And they help us in return.”_

Kurt leaned back against him and Blaine nuzzled his neck, kissing it softly.  “You have so much to teach me, Kurt,” he whispered.

“I have so much to learn.” Kurt turned back around, searching behind Blaine’s eyes.  “Do you think I can? Let you help me?  Help you to grow?”

Blaine knew the answer to that.  “I think that years from now, we will look back at where we started, and we’ll wonder when all those limits we thought we had went away.”

“Changed for good,” Kurt said.                                                                                                                                                 

Blaine leaned in and kissed him, soft and tender.  A promise he made to himself.  And to Kurt.  He pulled away and rested his head on his boyfriend’s chest. 

“Changed for good,” Blaine vowed.  “Changed for the better.”


	13. Mist

* * *

**Mist: A cloudlike aggregation of minute globules of water suspended in the atmosphere at or near the earth’s surface; to rain in very fine drops; drizzle**

* * *

_I never wrote their honeymoon.  Here goes!_

 

The small secluded bungalow smelled of bamboo and ocean and the growing scent of Blaine’s shampoo as his husband sang show tunes in the shower.

Husband.

Kurt could hardly believe it.

Growing up he never had.  Gay and Gray, he’d never thought he’d find a man who would love him, least of all someone kind and intelligent, immensely talented, intoxicatingly passionate and, of course, beautiful in every way.

Someone who believed in him.  In them. 

But now, his husband’s voice rose above the sound of the water raining over him, washing away the dirt and grime of the airports and flights, the steam opening up his vocal chords.

The resort was luxurious, their bungalow quaint, the staff courteous.  Champagne and the freshest pineapple, kiwi, and coconuts Kurt had ever tasted sat at the small table.  Everything about the first day of their honeymoon would have been perfect, if it wasn’t for the clouds in the sky and the gray mist in the air hanging over their private beach.

The singing stopped before the shower, but it was only a minute before the bathroom door opened and Blaine stepped out, towel drying his hair.  The rest of him was bare, skin pink with heat.

A smile overtook Kurt’s pout but not before Blaine caught it.  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Absolutely nothing,” Kurt said, raking his twinkling eyes over Blaine’s perfect body. 

The pink in his skin burned brighter as Blaine blushed and it sent a thrill down Kurt’s spine that after all these years and everything they’d been through, that he could still do that to Blaine. 

But then Blaine shook his head.  “I mean before you saw me naked, Kurt.  You looked sad.  What’s wrong?”

Kurt shrugged and turned back to the window.  “Just the weather,” he admitted.  “I had these grand plans of us lounging on the beach, soaking up the sun-”

“The sun may still burn up the mist.”  Blaine took a step toward him and Kurt could feel the thrill inside him turn into something deeper.  Stronger. “In the meantime, I think there’s plenty we can find to do inside.”

“Is there?”  Kurt’s heart quickened and his eyes sparkled and he could hear the tiny intake of breath when he closed the distance between them, just barely brushing his clothes against Blaine’s sensitive skin.  Blaine closed his eyes and let his towel fall from his hand to the floor.   Nothing between them but silence, Kurt ran one hand over Blaine’s hip, while the other brushed softly though wet curls.  Trailing his fingers down, he caressed the smooth skin of Blaine’s perfect ass, cupping his cheek and watching Blaine’s lids flutter open, eyes glowing with gold before darkening. 

His voice was barely a whisper.  “Kurt-” 

“Should I punish you?” Kurt asked.  “For that trick you pulled at the wedding rehearsal?”

“Falling,” Blaine muttered only a second before his knees gave way.

Kurt quickly enveloped him, his love latching on to Blaine’s submission, his arms keeping hold of his body until he could lead him to the bed.  He guided Blaine down onto his back and laid down beside him, hitching up on an elbow. He didn’t know how long he just watched him; every rise and fall of his chest, every pulse of his cock, every crease forming on his forehead with the force it took to keep his submission in check.

It was truly just the two of them there.  There was no rescue.

And Kurt wasn’t afraid.

When he could sense Blaine slowly rising out of his perfect subspace, he encircled Blaine’s cock, dragging long, languid strokes over his length.

Blaine gasped and he bit his lip, and Kurt wondered how his husband became more beautiful with every second.

Husband.

“You promised to obey me,” Kurt reminded him.  “In front of everyone.”

“Yes, Sir,” Blaine whimpered.  “I meant it.”

“You insisted on it.  Lied to me to do it.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

“You aren’t,” Kurt remarked and Blaine could not dispute that.  “But you will be.  Don’t come.”

Kurt took his time; lingering light brushes with his thumb on his coarse base and his smooth tip, circling Blaine’s balls over and over again in his loose fist, tracing his nails up and down his frenulum.  And when Blaine opened his eyes to gaze at him with the utmost devotion and trust, Kurt peered over him.  He edged his begging submissive with an indifference that drove Blaine crazy, seemingly keeping his attention on the beach outside and not the sub whining and squirming with desire beneath his fingers.  In reality though, he watched Blaine descend further and further into subspace with every stroke, the clouds over the beach slowly parting in the sky as they fell over Blaine’s eyes.  Kurt edged him until the mist outside was burned off by the sun and began to glisten on Blaine’s face.  He held Blaine’s cock in his hand, so hard and pulsing, begging for adventure, trying to break free like the beauty of the day.

“The sun is finally out,” Kurt said, abandoning Blaine’s cock immediately, kissing him quickly on the lips, and slipping out of bed.

“Kurt, Sir, please let me come,” Blaine pleaded.

“No.”

“But Sir-”

“Go on out to the beach,” Kurt instructed.  “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“My suit-“

“You don’t need it,” Kurt said before disappearing into the bathroom.

Through the window next to the shower, Kurt watched Blaine obey his orders as he promised he always would, his still desperate cock neglected for Kurt’s needs, making his desire and his submission even stronger.  The sub laid a towel down on a lounge chair before getting comfortable atop it.  Kurt could see his hands start toward his crotch, but he caught himself and reached over his head, gripping the chair like his life depended on it. 

Kurt smiled and changed into his bathing suit. He grabbed the lotion and went outside, warm sand slipping between his toes as he walked to sit down beside him.  He flipped open the top and let his eyes finally fall on the sub staring at him like his world was about to both end and begin.  “Can’t risk a sunburn,” he said, before he rubbed the lotion between his hands.  He started with Blaine’s face, then down to his chest, relishing the feel of Blaine’s nipples hardening beneath his playful fingers.  He continued over his shoulders and arms, down his stomach, pausing only to watch Blaine’s cock reach for him before pouring more into his palms and spreading it over his hips and around to his ass.    

“Fuck,” Blaine couldn’t help but say as his hips raised off the chair, letting Kurt cover both cheeks.  “Kurt please-”

“Oh, I’m sorry Blaine.  You’re right, I missed a spot.” Kurt filled his palm once more and let his hands close over Blaine’s cock and balls.

“God-”

“I know, sweetheart,” Kurt said apologetically, stroking over and over, making sure his attention was paid to every crease and crevice until Blaine’s pleas no longer formed words. “But we have to be extra careful, I can’t have you getting a sunburn, now can I?”

Blaine could only shake his head and when Kurt was sure Blaine could take no more, he finished the job, applying the lotion to Blaine’s legs, down to his toes.

“Kurt-”

“I’m going to go down to the water,” Kurt suddenly told him.  “Stay here where I can see you whenever I want.  And no touching.”

Blaine groaned and Kurt bounded off to the ocean, going no further than his knees, before turning around.  The sun was streaming pink and gold through the wisps of clouds, the mountains looked majestic in the distance, and the sand was the most beautiful color he’d ever seen.  But what truly took his breath away was the perfection that was waiting for him on that beach.  His husband.  His submissive.  Hard and desperate, his face calm with serenity while his hands clenched for self-control.  And whatever he had said in the past, Kurt wanted it.

Kurt wondered if he would start every day for the next two weeks with this feeling of power, control.  Love.  He wondered if he would start every day of the rest of his life this way.  He imagined that just like the island mist, it would come and go.  Some days there would be sun and other days there would be clouds.  But he knew that no matter what way their days would go, the beauty between himself and Blaine would always be there.


	14. Nose

* * *

  **Nose: The part of the face in humans and animals that contains the nostrils and the organ of smell and function as the usual passageway for air in respiration.**

* * *

  _This moment takes place sometime in between You Are Mine and Raising Serena._

_It references another moment that isn’t written.  It’s kind of basic and non-descript.  But I guess sometimes moments are like that._

 

 

"Your nose is growing."

"It's not."

From over the magazine he was reading on the couch, Kurt raised a doubtful brow.  Blaine was trying to look casual on the armchair across from him, amusement dancing in his eyes.  Kurt knew better. 

Blaine though seemed determined to push his luck.  "I'm not lying, Kurt, I swear."

"But you're not telling the whole truth."

"I'm pretty sure Pinocchio's nose only grows for the lies he tells, not the truths he leaves out."

“You’re pretty sure are you?”  Kurt lowered his feet to the floor and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Well if you don't tell me the truth right now I'm going to make something else grow and I'm going to keep it there for a very long time."

"Is that supposed to be a threat or..."

"See, this is exactly why I think you're spending too much time with Jesse."  Blaine said nothing.  “So let’s try this again. You two went out to the restaurant.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Alone.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Just two highly trained, handsome, strong subs without their Dominants.

Blaine smirked.  “Well, if you say so, Sir.”

“Cuffs on?”

Blaine sighed.  “Yes.”

“You and Jesse talked.”

“Yes.”

“You drank.”

“Just that one glass of wine like you told me.”

Kurt sat back.  And he studied his sub.  He was a good actor, but Kurt knew him, and he knew there was something Blaine wasn’t telling him.  Something that was both important and unimportant.  Something that Blaine meant to hide, but also in his heart of hearts, wanted him to discover.

“You danced.”

“No, Sir.”

“You latched on to someone.”

“No.”

“You let them latch on to you.”

The amusement drained from Blaine’s face.  “Kurt, come on,” he said.  “Just drop it.”

Kurt immediately saw he’d pushed it just too far.  But he couldn’t stop.  “Drop it so you can get away with whatever it was?”

“No, drop it so you don’t torture yourself over something that means nothing.”

Kurt was quiet.  And he thought.  Maybe Blaine was right.  Maybe he was getting worked up over all the possibilities that had flashed in his head of the trouble Blaine and Jesse could have gotten themselves into instead of considering the likelihood of Blaine ever going too far.

Then his phone buzzed.  “It’s Rachel,” Kurt muttered as he glanced at it. “She says that Jesse doesn’t want me to know there was karaoke.”  Kurt looked up to see the guilt suddenly painted on Blaine’s face.  “Why doesn’t he want me to know that?

Blaine shrugged.  “I don’t know.”  

“I think you do.” Blaine offered nothing. Kurt was finding this guessing game to be getting tiring.  “Did you sing?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Come What May?”

Blaine looked incredulous.  “What, no!”

“American Boy?  Teenage Dream?  Baby, It’s Cold Outside?”

“No. No. No.  Why does it matter what I sang?”

“I don’t know Blaine, you tell me.  Why does it matter what you sang?”

“Are you going to punish me for it?”

Kurt couldn’t tell if that was challenge or apprehension in Blaine’s voice.  “For singing a song?  Should I? Do you want me to?”

“No.” Blaine was clear on that.  His irritation was too.  “I don’t.”

“Well good.  Because that would just be stupid.”

“So is this argument, Kurt.”

“We’re not arguing, Blaine.”  Kurt felt himself pouting.  He couldn’t believe it had gotten to this.  “You know what? Fine. Don’t tell me. It doesn’t matter.”

“Now whose nose is growing?”

“Blaine, this is ridiculous.”

“So was trusting Jesse not to tell you,” Blaine muttered.

“Jesse loves sticking his lying nose wherever it doesn’t belong in the hopes that someone else will get into more trouble than him.  Well, I’m not going to play his game.  Just forget it, for real.”  Kurt picked up his magazine and started reading again.

“I Dreamed a Dream,” Blaine blurted out.

Kurt blinked.  “What?”

“I Dreamed a Dream,” Blaine repeated.  “That’s what I sang.”

Kurt felt his chest grow tight.  And he studied Blaine for a long time as the words of the song flashed through his head.  It literally hurt.  “And you’re sure you only had one glass of wine?”

“I swear.”

The first time Kurt had ever heard him sing that song had been a long time ago, back when everything between them was still so new, so precarious.  And maybe they’d both had a little too much to drink that night.  Maybe it had made them both emotional.  Over emotional.  He wouldn’t let himself fall into that trap again.  “Okay.”

“Okay?”

Kurt shrugged.  “It’s just a song, right?”

“Right.”

“It doesn’t mean anything.  You singing it.  Without me there.”

“It’s just a song.  It was there and I like it and you don’t so I sang it when you weren’t there to hear.”

Kurt told himself it made sense.  It meant nothing.  That whatever self-doubt and panic and years of people telling him he wasn’t good enough and he could never have this beautiful relationship that he had, that it would all fall apart, that no sub could survive it…

And those thoughts were why he didn’t want to hear.  Because just the thought of Blaine singing those words about him shattered his heart to pieces.  And he knew it was completely irrational.  “Okay,” Kurt said.  He got up and started to head to the bedroom.

But Blaine was quicker and he met him before the door, grasping hold of Kurt’s arms.  “It wasn’t about me, Kurt.  It isn’t about us.”  Kurt looked away, ashamed of his own feelings.  But Blaine chased his eyes.  “It isn’t. About. Us.”  Blaine’s gaze didn’t waiver and Kurt fell into the shining gold of Blaine’s eyes.  “It isn’t about you.”

Kurt tried very hard to believe him.  “Okay,” he said.

Blaine’s smile was melancholy but loving when he tapped Kurt on the nose.  “It might be growing just a little.”

Kurt lowered his chin, chuckling softly.  “I will be okay.  I promise.”  He looked back up at his sub.  “It’s just a song.  You have every right to sing it.  I shouldn’t have pressed you so much.  I should have just trusted you.  I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”  The twinkle returned to Blaine’s eye.  “Come to bed and I’ll show you how much you can trust me.”

“Hmmm.”  Kurt playfully took his hand.  “I think I’ll keep an eye on that nose, just to make sure.”

Walking backwards, Blaine led him to the bedroom.  “I trust that you will.”


	15. Orgy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occurs to me that while I write most of YAM and RS from Blaine’s point of view, most of these Advents have been Kurt’s.  And I think it’s important in the last chapter and the next chapter of RS to see where Kurt’s head has been at in all this.  Because we see Blaine’s torment and turmoil throughout the story, but we only really get rare glimpses of the mess going on in Kurt’s mind.  This Advent series has allowed me to delve into that a little deeper, and for that, I am grateful.
> 
> Warnings: CBT, Safeword use

 

 

* * *

  **Orgy: a wild or drunken festivity or revelry, especially involving sex with multiple participants; excessive indulgence in a specified activity.**

* * *

  _This moment takes place a few weeks after Chapter 9 of Raising Serena, Blaine’s public punishment at Black and White._

 

 

Kurt could hear the music from the hallway.  He’d gotten Blaine’s text to meet him at Elliott’s apartment.  He didn’t know why.  He didn’t know what to expect.  He could see the lights flashing from beneath the door and everything overwhelmed his senses from the moment he stepped inside.

“Blaine,” he called over the music, trying not to see in the moments of bright light the sea of naked bodies writhing together, trying not to smell the scent of sex that permeated the room.  “Blaine,” he yelled louder, over the voices, grunting and groaning in time with the bass causing vibrations beneath his feet as he walked.  “Blaine, where are you?”

His sub was nowhere to be found in the living room or the kitchen and he knew he didn’t want to but he had no choice but to push open the door to Elliott’s bedroom.  Inside was a nightmare.  Blaine splayed out on the bed, shadows of people all around him. Rachel held his hands tight over his head while Jesse knelt at her feet.  Brittany was there, kneeling on the floor with the cock of _his_ sub in her mouth, Santana standing over them directing her. And Blaine’s head was thrown back as if he were begging, the ghost of a figure thrusting down his throat from behind, and above him, fucking him, was Elliott, looking more beautiful than Kurt would ever admit.

Kurt’s Dominance flared through him and blazed, hotter than ever, and in a split second, he had thrown everyone else off of his sub and out of the room, straddled Blaine’s waist, and pinned his wrists beside his head. 

“You are mine,” he nearly growled.

Awoken out of what seemed to be a sleepy submission, there was both arousal and bewilderment on Blaine’s face.

“Sir?”

“Shut up.  Don’t move.”

Blaine obeyed but he watched and his eyes went wide when Kurt shifted beside him and pulled the small flogger out of his back pocket.

“Did I do something?” Blaine asked, his voice trembling.

“You are mine,” the Dom repeated.

“Yes, Sir, I am.  All yours.”

“Only mine,” Kurt said and he lifted Blaine’s cock on to his belly.

Blaine had no time to process before the first strike hit him, ten tiny snakes biting into his balls. Blaine screamed.  “Kurt!”

Another strike pierced through him and Blaine’s eyes squeezed shut, gritting his teeth against the pain.  “Kurt!”

One more whistle though, one more assault and Blaine had no other choice.  “New York,” he yelled.

The words, those precious words that Kurt would always hear and obey even in the deepest of states, pierced through the sleep and the Dominance and Kurt fully awoke in their own bedroom, flogger in his hand, his husband trying to breathe through the worst of the pain. 

Recognizing that the horror had been nothing more than a dream more vivid than any other, Kurt immediately dropped the flogger onto the floor.  Sweat glistening on his skin, his stomach revolting with the realization of what he’d just done, Kurt fell back on to the bed.  “Fuck.  Blaine, I’m so sorry.”

“Kurt, what the-”

He’d been having the dreams for weeks, every few nights since their public display at Black and White.  Each time he would wake with a start and Blaine would ask him what was wrong and he’d say nothing and go back to sleep.  He didn’t have that choice this time.

“It was a dream.” Kurt swallowed, everything flooding him.  “There was some kind of…horrible…orgy.” He grimaced at the word.  “You were at Elliott’s apartment, laid out on his bed, Elliott inside you, Brittany sucking you, other people, random shadow people, fucking your mouth-”

“Kurt,” Blaine said, sitting up briskly, brushing a thumb over the tears now falling down his Dom’s cheeks.  “Kurt, I would never-”

“I know.”

“Ever,” Blaine swore.

“I know.”

Blaine leaned in, kissing him, reclaiming him, reclaiming _them_ from the illusions and insecurities of Kurt’s mind.  Kurt surged forward, pressing deep inside Blaine’s mouth and Blaine wrapped him in his submission, holding him tight, letting Kurt take whatever he needed.

Kurt finally pulled away, hesitating before he laid his hand down between Blaine’s legs, gently touching the skin he’d lit on fire. “Does it hurt?” he asked, knowing the obvious answer. 

Blaine shook his head though.  “The worst of it is over.” He’d stopped Kurt before the Dom had gone too far.    “All that’s left is the best of it.”

“I am so sorry,” Kurt started, but Blaine interrupted.

“Don’t be.” He raised Kurt’s chin so their eyes met.  “Do you know how much I love that your first instinct to me cheating on you was to pull out that flogger and whip my balls?  I didn’t ask for it, we didn’t plan it.  That was you.  All you.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Kurt didn’t think it was good that he’d assaulted his sub so brutally at all, much less for something he hadn’t even done.

Blaine’s hazel eyes were warm though, caring.  “I guess good or bad are judgments you’re going to have to make for yourself.  But what I can tell you is that I like it.  No, I love it.  It makes me feel safe.”

“Me taking a flogger to your balls when you don’t deserve it, making you safeword; _that_ makes you feel safe?”

“Yes.  Because in your dream you didn’t walk out.  You didn’t leave me there.  You owned me, gave me what you thought I deserved, and what you thought I deserved was perfect.  You didn’t second guess yourself and maybe it sounds crazy, but it makes me feel safe just to know that’s inside you. If ever you really need it.”  Kurt’s puzzlement must have been written all over his face because Blaine laughed.  “We submissives are strange creatures.”

The more Kurt thought he was understanding his Dominance, the more he realized he didn’t grasp a thing about submission. Whatever Blaine felt about this was beyond his realm of reconciliation and his guilt still laid heavily in his chest. He bit his lip and played with the comforter.  “I feel like I owe you an orgasm.”

“No,” Blaine said.  “You don’t owe me anything.”  He wrapped Kurt up in his arms.  “You already gave me more tonight than any orgasm could.”

With no understanding at all, Kurt rested his head on Blaine’s chest.  “Strange creature indeed.”

“ _Your_ strange creature,” Blaine promised. He brushed his fingers through Kurt’s hair and kissed him tenderly on the head.  “All yours.”

“All mine,” Kurt whispered.  He closed his eyes, and took in a deep breath.  As he had so many times before and would so many times again, Kurt accepted that he didn’t need to understand any of it.  His only job was to allow himself to experience the love and submission and Dominance that was inside them both. To feel it. To act on it.  To own it. 

The good and the bad.  All of it.


	16. Perform

* * *

  **Perform: to carry out; execute; do; to act (a play, part, etc.), as on the stage, in movies, or on television, to render (music), as by playing or singing.**

* * *

 

_This moment takes place the beginning of Blaine’s sophomore year._

 

 

Blaine stared at the cast list for NYADA’s fall show, trying to believe what he was seeing, trying to channel all that nervous anticipation he’d been feeling into a joyful excitement.  He closed his eyes and opened them again just to make sure that his name was still at the top of the list.  His classmates were patting him on the back, congratulating him on getting the lead, and he tried to let it settle in his chest.  This was why he’d come to NYADA.  To New York.  This was his dream.   

His submission stirred though.

He turned around, a huge grin on his face.  Across the room he could see Kurt; his boyfriend, his Dom, leaning back against the green room wall, arms folded across his chest, a proud smile blooming on his face.  That pride in him that Kurt felt mattered to Blaine as much as the role itself.  Maybe more.

But Blaine had also seen Kurt the second before their eyes had met.  And he had seen the pained, wistful contemplation watching the others who’d auditioned celebrate.

Blaine had known Kurt wouldn’t be on the cast list.  They both had known.  The head of the Theater Department had told him not to even bother auditioning, that there was no role for a Gray like him.  Kurt had anyway, of course.  He wouldn’t let their prejudices completely stop him.  But no matter how hard he tried and no matter what he gave them, he had no choice over casting and it was no surprise when he hadn’t been called back.

They’d talked about it, come to terms with it.  Kurt had told him that he was okay with it, that all that mattered was that Blaine got the chances that he deserved. 

And yet, knowing wasn’t _knowing_ and it didn’t make the reality hurt any less.

Blaine’s heart ached as he closed the distance between him and his Dom.  And no matter what anyone else said, Kurt was his Dom.

“Congratulations,” Kurt told him, but he couldn’t hide the pain in his voice, not with Blaine.  “You deserve it.” 

“I won’t take it if you don’t want me to.”  It may have sounded disingenuous, but Blaine meant it with all his heart and soul.  He would give up anything for Kurt.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”  Kurt would never want Blaine to give up on his dreams.  “Of course I want you to, I love watching you perform.  I just…”

“You miss it.”

Kurt looked away.  And not for the first time, Blaine felt a tremendous amount of guilt that there were so many more opportunities available to him than to Kurt.  The world shouldn’t be that way.

“If NYADA won’t cast you then go outside of NYADA.  There have to be theater companies in New York hiring Gray actors.”

“For Gray roles, yes.  But those are very few and far between and there are even fewer for a Gray like me.”

Blaine felt inside him an overwhelming need to fix this for him.  “I’ll write you a role then.”  He took Kurt’s hand.  “A whole musical built around how utterly amazing you are.”

A hint of a sparkle started to return to Kurt’s eyes.  “Maybe someday you will.”

And he would.  He silently promised himself that.  But he knew at least one person at NYADA believed in Kurt and had other plans for him.  “The fact is though, you’re going to be too busy,” Blaine said.  “What with directing on Broadway.”

Kurt scoffed.  “Now you’re really being ridiculous.  It will be a cold day in hell before anyone lets a Gray direct on Broadway.”

“Well, you know what they say. Climate change is a bitch.  Can’t stop it.  The winds will keep blowing and changing and you will have your day, Kurt, I know you will.  And besides.”  Blaine moved closer, his breath ghosting over Kurt’s neck.  “You can perform for me at home any day.”

Kurt blushed and shyly surveyed their audience before linking a discreet finger in Blaine’s belt loop.  “I think that’s supposed to be the other way around, sweetheart.  I think you are supposed to perform for me.”

“For you. With you.” Blaine took one more step, leaving no air between them.  “In you. Under you. Any way you want it, Sir, just tell me what to do.”  Blaine’s eyes clouded over as he leaned in and though Kurt wasn’t a huge fan of public displays, he allowed his sub one lingering kiss before pulling away.

“My classes are done for the day,” Kurt said, a little breathless.  “How about you?”

“Totally done, Sir.”

“Then how about we take this performance back to the loft.  I think I might need you to do some convincing before I let you take this part. Make sure you truly do deserve it.”

A shiver ran down Blaine’s spine as he followed his Dom in silence. 

His Gray. 

Because no matter what anyone else thought, Kurt didn’t need Dominance to perform circles around everybody else.

 

 


	17. Raw

* * *

  **Raw: uncooked, as articles of food; unnaturally or painfully exposed.**

* * *

_This moment takes place a few months prior to Kurt and Blaine’s wedding._

Raw.  There was no other way to describe it. That’s how he felt.  Like a scarred over wound had been ripped open fresh.

Blaine paced the floor of their bedroom as he talked to his Mom on the phone.  “What do you mean you’re not going? It’s my _wedding_.”

“Your father,” she said.

Of course it was his father, there could be no other reason.  Kurt had refused to even send the invitation in the Dom’s name, which Blaine knew would only infuriate him more.  But what did the man expect?  He had barely talked to Blaine in years.  He’d forced his child’s own mother to hide away in her office anytime she wanted to call her son.  Kurt would never welcome him with open arms. 

“You don’t need him, Mom,” Blaine pleaded.  “Come with Cooper.”

“Your father won’t allow it.”

Rage swept through his blood. “He can’t do that!”

“Blaine, he’s my Dom.”

“I’m your son!”  His voice choked.  He’d been trying to hold back his tears but there was no stopping them now. They flowed freely, wiped away on his sleeve as his fingers gripped his own hair.

Kurt was watching him from the bed carefully.  Knowing he couldn’t intervene in the conversation, but ready to catch him if he fell. Blaine, though, was too angry for submission.

His mother sighed.  “What would you have me do, Blaine?  Defy him?”

He nodded emphatically though she couldn’t see him.  “Yes.”  He sniffed and wiped his nose and even in this state the thought floated through his head that Kurt was going to kill him for messing up his sleeves.  “You don’t have to follow this order.”

“And would you defy Santana?” she asked, challenged almost.  “If you were in my shoes?”

“Absolutely.”  He had no doubt.

“Would you defy Kurt?”

Blaine stopped.  He caught the eye of his fiancé.  His true Dom.  Kurt kept his face completely blank even though Blaine knew he could hear her question from the bed.

“Yes,” Blaine said with certainty.  He watched the tiny smile of pride flicker on Kurt’s lips before he could pull it back. Blaine hadn’t said yes to please his Dom, though.  “If Kurt ordered me not to see you, I would defy him.  But Kurt wouldn’t do that.”

Blaine could hear her sigh.  “Well, Kurt and your dad are very different.” Resignation was thick in her voice.

He and his mom were very different too, but he didn’t say that aloud. 

“Okay,” he conceded.  As much as he wanted to be mad at her, he couldn’t.  She was his mom.  She was a sub.  The truth was that she defied his father every time she picked up the phone or logged into Skype to talk to him.  He owed her far more credit than he was giving her.  She was only doing what she thought was right.

“I love you,” she said.

Blaine had been raised in a traditional family.  His mother and father had been set in their ways for a very long time.  Blaine wouldn’t be able to convince her.  There was nothing left to say.

“I love you too.  Bye.”

He ended the call, tossing his phone on the bed.  He stood in the center of the bedroom, unable to move.  Waiting for the anger to subside enough for the tiny hum inside him to grow.

Kurt didn’t ask if he was okay.  He knew Blaine wasn’t, the raw open wound finally bleeding submission.

So Kurt said nothing.  He simply got up, took Blaine’s hand, pulled him into his arms and wrapped him in his love. 

They stayed that way for a long time, until Blaine’s churning submission finally calmed, and the torn open wound in his heart that had been there since the day his father had turned his back on him, once again closed.

For now.  It wouldn’t ever truly be gone.  But Blaine knew that Kurt’s love would always be able to heal him. Whenever it may reopen. 


	18. Stir

* * *

  **Stir:  To move one’s hand or an implement continuously or repeatedly through (a liquid or other substance);** **to affect strongly; excite; to rouse from inactivity;** **a state or occasion of general excitement; commotion**

* * *

  _This moment takes place February 2023 - after Kurt’s show in Boston, after Christmas in Ohio where Kurt uses humiliation as punishment in front of his family and torture with snow as a reward, and before Blaine forgets to bring Serena to the doctor._

 

 

 

“Blaine Devon Anderson-Hummel, you better not stir up any trouble in there.”

The giggling in Serena’s room was so loud it could be heard from where Kurt was baking in the kitchen. Usually the sound of his husband and daughter’s laughter filled him with joy.  But this sounded sinister.  Like they were plotting. 

Blaine heard the call just as he was whispering one last instruction to the little girl.  Serena had heard it too.

“Uh-oh,” she said, looking up at him.  “Daddy used your full name.”

“You and your _uh-oh_ ’s,” Blaine laughed.  She may not have even started kindergarten yet, but she was getting more and more in tune with her fathers every day.  Which meant that she always guessed when Blaine was in trouble with Kurt and, more often than not, she was right.  But this time, Blaine was certain that he hadn’t done anything wrong.  “You stay here, I’ll be right back.  I just want to make sure that Daddy isn’t on to us.”

With a quick kiss on the head, he handed her the safety scissors and the red and pink construction paper and left her to their work, shutting the door behind him just in case.  Kurt looked up at Blaine from his cooking with a glare full of suspicion.

Pulling up a stool, Blaine sat down and leaned across the counter, his eyes glinting with mischief.  “I’m not saying I am, but what exactly would you do if I _were_ stirring up trouble?”

Kurt studied him for just a moment before reaching over to the utensil caddy.  He pulled out a wooden spoon. 

“Hold out your hand,” Kurt ordered.

Blaine went still.

His heart jumpstarted with a thrill, and he held his breath, trying to keep away hopes and wishes and expectations, but there were some turns of phrase that were just impossible to ignore.  The pulse of Kurt’s Dominance was still so new and precarious to Blaine, still unacknowledged by Kurt. Every part of the sub screamed that he couldn’t allow himself to imagine all the wonders it might someday bring.  But holding his hand out over the counter, palm flat, just waiting, he found it impossible to stay his emotions.  And his submission.

Eyes never breaking contact, he felt like Kurt was staring deep inside him, counting every beat of his heart, reading every thought in his head.

“This,” Kurt said, holding the spoon out between them.  “This is for stirring.  Your mouth is not.  Understood?”

Blaine swallowed hard and managed to squeak out a “Yes, Sir,” before Kurt took hold of his fingertips.

He could feel it before the spoon even touched his hand. 

He could feel the sting in his palm, growing sharper with each smack.  He could feel the tears forming in his eyes.  He could feel the desire to pull his hand away, shake it out, cradle the burning flesh unless his other hand was next to be tested by his Dom.  In a split second, he could feel it all in the swirling of his head and the fluttering of his stomach and the filling of his cock and he didn’t care that he’d done nothing wrong, he wanted it more than anything.

And when he could finally tear himself away from staring at the promise in his Dom’s hand, Blaine’s eyes of gold, clouded with hope and submission, met with Kurt’s sapphire eyes. 

Inside them, Blaine could see the fear and regret in Kurt’s gaze and he watched as those emotions flashed then slipped away, leaving behind no apology but no Dominance either. And when the spoon was placed lightly into Blaine’s palm and the mixing bowl was slid toward him, it took Blaine a hundred turns of the batter for his breathing to slow, for his stomach to resettle, for his mind to shift from submission to disappointment, to understanding and acceptance.

Finally braving a glance, he could see in Kurt’s face now the apology, and Blaine shrugged with a slight shake of his head.  There were no words in these moments that were happening all too frequently because words stirred up desires and resentment and longing that they had long ago resolved. 

“What are you making?” Blaine managed to ask, handing the bowl back to him.

“Cookies for Serena’s Valentine’s Day party tomorrow.  What were you two…oh.”  Kurt put two and two together and Blaine hoped that all of this wouldn’t mess up their Valentine’s Day surprise.  “Well, you better go finish your…trouble…with Serena…”

“Okay.” Blaine’s voice was soft as he stepped off the stool to leave but Kurt grasped his trailing hand first.  Blaine’s breath hitched at the touch.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said.

Blaine pressed his lips together, holding back all the things that had been said for years and all the things that hadn’t.

“Don’t be.”  He smiled gently, slid his hand away, and went back to Serena’s room. 

But the spoon had stirred up emotions still churning inside him that he just couldn’t stop.  And as much as his head told him to fight it, underneath it all, his submission hummed peacefully; denied, anticipating, longing. 

And surrendering to it all.


	19. Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So I decided, and I am determined, to finish this advent series with the end of the 2018 Advent. I know you all lament each time I post an SPN story, so I wanted to make sure I did this before I posted another one.
> 
> I'm going to fudge a bit, because they're doing it differently, but my plan is still to do the right number of days with the right letters. If they decide to skip letters, maybe I'll ask for an idea for a word. Or maybe I'll just choose my own.
> 
> These are quickly written and not beta'd in any way, but I hope you enjoy anyway. Let me know :-)
> 
> Oh, and my little nod to Lilinas is intentional, for anyone who catches it.

 

* * *

**Tree: A woody perennial plant having a single usually elongated main stem generally with few or no branches on its lower part**

* * *

 

_This moment takes place a year before Serena is born_

 

The lights on the full green pine tree were glowing red and gold and it almost felt like it was the heat of those lamps keeping Blaine warm, and not the Hummels' fireplace or the warm body of his Dom behind him with his arms wrapped tight around his chest.  Cuddled up on the floor of Kurt's childhood home, they were leaning back against the couch, Kurt nuzzling softly in his ear, Blaine purring with all the delight of his submission.

"You know, next year we'll have to get a tree of our own in New York," Blaine said.  "For the baby."

Kurt rolled his eyes.  Blaine had everything worked out to the day with appointments scheduled and little things like science.  But babies tended to have their own agendas.  "We don't eve know if it will be here by Christmas next year, Blaine.  Besides, how does one even get a Christmas tree in the city?  Not like we can take an axe to Central Park."

"Blaine can be your Christmas tree," Jesse piped up with a grin.  Both boys had nearly forgotten that he and Rachel hadn't gone up to bed with Burt and Carole.  They looked over at him, standing in the doorway, smirking over his hot cocoa.  "Branches in each hand, ornaments hanging from his nipples, his-"

Blaine wasn't sure if it was Rachel's smack to his ass or Kurt's utterly disgusted yell of "stop!" that had shut Jesse up, but neither had managed to allay the pink that had risen in Blaine's cheeks. 

Jesse just laughed and now Blaine was certain it was neither the lights on the tree nor the crackling fire that was causing his skin to sweat.  And his cock to bounce.  Thank goodness he was nestled safely between Kurt's legs and not the other way around.

That, of course, didn't stop Jesse from noticing Blaine's interest.  "You can tell me to stop all you want, Kurt, but your sub seems to have a different opinion on the topic."

"Just one more he needs to learn to live with," Kurt commented.  Blaine looked back at him and Kurt raised a stern brow.  "Right, Blaine?"

Blaine swallowed.  "Yes, sir."

"Besides," Rachel said, slipping down to the floor herself beside her best friend.  "Not sure you'd be wanting to be too playful with a newborn baby.  In fact, you may sleep through the entirety of Christmas next year."

"If we even have the baby by then," Kurt reminded them all again.  "Baby making is not an exact science no matter how you do it."

Kurt was right.  Their appointments with Santana and the fertility clinic may be in March, but that didn't mean that everything would necessarily work on the first go.  "Either way," Blaine said.  "One way or another, this should be our last Christmas without a baby either on its way or in our arms."

The room fell quiet, the gravity of Blaine's words hitting all four of them.  Despite their young adulthood, this truly was the last Christmas of their childhoods.  Next year, none of it would be about them anymore.  The presents under the tree would be baby clothes, and toys, and diapers, and parenting books.  Next year, and every year after that, everything they did would be about their child.

Blaine closed his eyes, listening to the fire and the carols playing over Rachel's phone.  He breathed in the earthy scent of pine and smoke.  He felt the freedom in the air.  And he enjoyed it all, one last time.


End file.
